


Pancakes and Pajamas

by ermengarde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2008-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermengarde/pseuds/ermengarde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Christmas Eve in the Winchester household and something’s threatening Sammy. It’s okay though, Dean knows how to keep his brother safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes and Pajamas

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://emiliglia.livejournal.com/profile)[**emiliglia**](http://emiliglia.livejournal.com/)'s [](http://spn-christmas.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://spn-christmas.livejournal.com/)**spn_christmas** prompt number 24 (see additional a/n at the end for prompt details).

Dean's head snapped up, a quiet noise startling him. What was that? Was he here? The little noise came again, a tiny copy of Daddy's snore. Sammy'd fallen asleep!

"Sammy, _wake up_ , you've got to stay awake!" He jostled his little brother's head with his shoulder, aware that the little warm body had collapsed into him and Sammy had been using him as a pillow and comforter in one.

Sammy made a little cross-sounding grunt and tried to burrow into Dean's arm

"Sammy!" Dean tried to copy the voice Daddy used when Dean hadn't heard that it was time to leave the cars at school.

"Mmnh. What?" Sammy whined quietly, scrubbing at his eyes and glaring at his big brother, hair all squished up on one side of his head making him look rumpled and lopsided.

"You fell asleep Sammy, we've got to stay awake in case he thinks we've not been good, Miss Dawes said he'd not come if we were awake so we've got to stay awake."

Miss Dawes was awesome. She taught in the Sunday school at Pastor Jim's church and she always gave them candy at the end of the class if they were good. It was easy to be good for Miss Dawes, she was funny and nice and she hugged Sammy because she said it was good for a lady to hug Sammy because Mommy couldn't quite reach from heaven, and Dean had never told Daddy that because talking about Mommy was bad and made Daddy go into the other room and shut the door but Sammy liked Miss Dawes and she smelled nice and Dean wished she'd hug him, too, because Mommy couldn't reach him either.

Dean sighed and reached out to grab Sammy who was listing slightly and still rubbing at his face. "Come on Sammy, you need to stay in the circle".

Dean had been looking forward to Christmas, they usually got to go to Pastor Jim's and there was always lots of food there that his ladies brought for them and Daddy and Pastor Jim would talk and talk and Daddy was always happier there but this year was going to be even better. They had their own house near the church and Dean had gotten to be in the Nativity play - as a _King_ \- they'd even been here long enough that the kids at school had included him in their Holiday cards. Dean had never had a card of his own before. Well, he shared these ones with Sammy, but until he'd gotten them home they'd been just his.

He was so lucky that he'd received them; Dean looked at the card in his hand again, not even needing to sound out the big words any more. It was just like the verses in Pastor Jim's _special_ books except in American, not Latin, and told Dean exactly what to expect. People were so stupid, they didn't ward with salt, or symbols or anything and the bad things could get in and then they wrote about it as if it was _okay_. Dean had wanted to talk to Daddy about it, but Daddy had been busy, or cross or sleeping a lot and Dean didn't want to make him busier. Besides, Dean knew what to do. Santa Claus only came on Christmas Eve so they just had to stay awake. The thick line of salt all round them was just extra, Daddy said it never hurt, maybe it would make up for the fact that the new house wasn't as protected as Pastor Jim's.

Sammy was cuddling into him again, tucking underneath Dean's arm. "M'cold Dean," he muttered as he curled up practically into Dean's lap.

Dean held his little brother tightly, aware that the train covered cotton of Sammy's pajamas was thin and worn, and probably not warm enough for sitting on the floor, in December, and he was getting very, very cold. Sammy might get sick if he got a chill. Dean listened carefully for a moment and tried to judge the distance to their bed.

"Okay Sammy, just sit here, don't move, okay?" Sammy looked up wide-eyed as Dean stood, then mutely nodded his agreement.

As quickly as he could Dean grabbed the comforter and ran back into the circle. His heart thudded in his chest, but that was stupid, they were awake and Dad had warded the house. No, it was safe. He tried to breathe slower because they were safe really, and if he looked worried Sammy would be scared. Sammy was a good boy, he'd be fine. Yeah, Sammy would be fine. Just had to keep him warm and awake.

Sammy snuggled into Dean again the moment he sat down and Dean tucked the comforter round them like a fort inside a moat of salt. Dean smiled and squeezed his brother tightly with satisfaction; giggling when Sammy squeaked in protest

oOo

John stretched out, grimacing as his shoulders and back clicked and popped in protest at spending all night in a chair. This cheap little clapboard shack needed another room and another bed to make it anything other than a hovel but at least the boys had their own space to play in. The wind whistled in through gaps in the windows and where the boards weren't quite as sealed as they might've been but with enough clothes it wasn't _too_ uncomfortable – and it was better than having to rely on Jim's charity. He looked over to the little table where they ate; sometimes he'd prepare dinner there when he tried anything more complicated than canned stew; and smiled. It wasn't what Mary would have wanted but at least her family was celebrating Christmas together in their own home and they could take a quiet moment to toast her, maybe. Remember her.

He'd been saving hard, taking odd jobs here and there - everyone wanted things fixed near Christmas - and the exhaustion was worth it. There was (for once) plenty of food, some sodas for the boys, even a beer for him and best of all he'd managed to get gifts for the boys. New pajamas - Dean's were threadbare and practically in holes - and socks and a couple of nice warm sweaters. He walked over to the table and ran his hand over the presents, ruefully noting his less than perfect wrapping. He'd even managed to get some things the boys would actually _like_

It was early yet, but John wanted to start celebrating before they went to church and got caught up in all the excitement with the Sunday school kids and Jim's _ladies_ , so he folded up his comforter and put it in the kitchen cupboard he kept for his own before opening the door to the boys' room.

The sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks. His sons were tangled on the floor in a mess of comforter, Dean wrapped protectively around Sammy, with a thick salt line encircling them both.

His heart clenched in his chest. If something had frightened them why hadn't they come and got him? Moving quietly, he made his way towards his boys, not wanting to startle them. Dean had something clutched in his hand and John carefully pried it out of his grip and backed off slowly to see what it was.

oOo

Dean woke with a start, the smell of _pancakes_ making his mouth water. Daddy was opening their door, coming in to wake them and Dean's face fell as he realized that he'd failed and had fallen asleep. It was just luck that Sammy was okay.

"Merry Christmas, boys!" Daddy smiled at them and came over to where they were still nested on the floor.

Somehow everything seemed better when Daddy scooped Dean up into a big bear-hug. He smelled like syrup and butter and coffee.

"Daddeeeeee! Me too!" Sammy was practically bouncing out of his skin, wanting to join in the hug.

Daddy laughed, a deep rumbling that tickled Dean's tummy and made him laugh too, and picked up Sammy before he carried them both through to the main room.

It was warm in there, and it smelled good. Dean squirmed round in his father’s arm, looking over the little room and saw that the table was already set for breakfast - and there were _presents_!

oOo

John just grinned as both his boys wriggled out of his arms and ran over to their seats. The burst of pride he felt when they stopped, and looked up at him for permission to open them was only slightly tempered by a sadness that they had to know how to be so respectful, had to look to him for permission and guidance all the time. It was the only way to keep them safe.

He shook his head and snapped out of his reverie as he realized that the boys were still standing, waiting for him, Sammy twisting from one side to the other in his attempts not to move.

"On you go, open them." And his voice didn't hitch at all as he watched their excitement over ripping into the cheap paper that contained clothes that they'd badly needed for months.

"S' _red_ , Dean look, s'red!" Sammy was pulling on his new sweater over his pajamas, face all lit up.

"Yeah, I saw." Dean grinned over at his brother, "I got blue. Thanks Daddy!"

And John got his Christmas present right then, his oldest boy smiling up at him, warm and happy.

"Okay boys, who'd like pancakes?"

oOo

Daddy had made more pancakes than Dean had ever seen, just kept piling them onto plates and bringing them over to the table. Some of them had come out kind of odd looking but Daddy said he was making them in the shape of all the states they'd ever been in.

Sammy was busy pouring syrup over his big stack of Texas-Arizona-Washington-Maine, both hands on the bottle and tongue poking out in concentration. It was good that Daddy had made him take off his new sweater though; despite Sammy's concentration there was hardly a spot on his face that wasn't coated in syrup and his pajamas had a slight sheen to them that Dean knew from experience meant _sticky_.

Daddy seemed really _happy_ , even singing a little, and Dean didn't want to make him mad, but he needed to know what had happened last night.

"Daddy..." he started, tentatively, quietly.

"What's up, Deano?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Did you shoot Santa?"

Daddy coughed and spat half his coffee over the table.

Dean waited quietly for the coughing to stop; Sammy even stopped plowing into his pancakes for a moment, wanting to know what the answer was.

"Is this what the salt was about last night?" Daddy asked, seriously. Dean just nodded.

"But you know Santa's a good guy?"

"It _said_ Daddy. It said we'd better be good, he's got a list if you're bad." Dean was confused, and a little scared.

"C'mere, Dean" Daddy pushed back from the table and gestured for Dean to come round the table, holding out an arm for a hug.

“This is about your card, isn’t it?” Daddy asked, nodding towards the kitchen counter.

 _Oh_. The card Jenny had given him, crumpled and the color slightly run, was sitting out with the rest of their cards. Daddy must’ve found it this morning and he was going to be angry about how damaged it was. You never hurt the books. They were Important Tools. Daddy was looking at him. “Yes, sir.” Dean stood straight and looked Daddy in the eye.

But Daddy didn’t shout, just squeezed him a little. “Oh Dean. Why did you think Santa was going to hurt you?” Daddy let out a big sigh.

He shifted slightly, not really knowing what to say. “I, uh, it _said_.”

Daddy lifted Dean onto his lap and hugged him really really tight, burying his face in Dean’s hair. Dean didn’t really know what to do, Daddy seemed sad when he should be angry and Dean really couldn’t move much. He grabbed onto Daddy’s shirt and tried to hug back.

oOo

A hundred different thoughts were running through John’s head at once. What kind of father was he, raising kids who were scared of Santa? He inhaled the scent of sweaty little boy, holding onto Dean too tight but afraid to let go.

_I’m so sorry, Mary._

“Daddy…” Sammy was tugging on his shirt, wide eyed and worried. John took a deep breath, lifted his head and smiled at both his sons.

“Looks like I’ve missed a story or two, boys. Let’s get washed up and I’ll tell you all about Santa, okay?”

Sammy grinned and ran over to the sink, Dean following him and getting the stool his little brother needed to reach the water.

oOo

Daddy fixed everything. He’d fixed Sammy being a stick-monster, he’d fixed the salt from the bedroom floor and he made the best hot chocolate _ever_. He’d explained that Santa didn’t do anything bad to people, just gave you a present if you were good, and that Jenny’s card was the words from a Christmas song, not a book.

Daddy was sitting on the floor, leaning against his chair, and Dean and Sammy were leaning against him, _safe_.

“Daddy; sing it, sing it, sing it!” Sammy was giggling, slightly crazy from all the syrup and the marshmallows in the chocolate. Daddy snagged Sammy’s mug, stopping it from tipping and taking a big sip.

“Maybe later, munchkin; I need to check something first…” Daddy handed Sammy back his mug and gently moved his arm out from behind Dean to reach under the cushion on the chair. “Ahhhh, yes. He did.” Daddy was grinning a stupid big grin and was pulling something out from the chair

“MORE PRESENTS!” Sammy shouted and jumped up practically on Daddy’s _chest_.

Daddy just laughed and handed Sammy a bright snowman-covered package, nodding that it was okay for Sammy to open it before handing Dean the other package that had been hidden under the cushion.

It was hard and kinda square covered in scrumply paper printed in blue with green blobby wreaths on it. _ohhhhh, it’s not clothes, maybe it’s a.._ Dean shook his head, stupid, there was no money for stupid _toys_.

“Go on Dean, Santa left it for you last night. I told him how good you and Sammy are.”

“It’s _MAINFRAME_!” Sammy yelled, waving the GI Joe above his head and Dean saw that it was _new_ with the computer and the backpack and the telephone and _everything_. “What’d Santa get you Dean, show me show…!” Sammy was bouncing up and down and must have been bruising Daddy. Sammy was _sharp_ when he bounced on you.

“Let him open it Sammy, shhh.” Daddy soothed Sammy down a bit, holding him and stopping the bounce.

Dean ripped open the paper, wanting to see… _DIAL TONE_! Oh wow. And he was _new_.

“Thank you Daddy.” Dean grinned, caressing the plastic on the box reverentially. No one would have _chewed_ this one. “Merry Christmas.”

oOo

John looked at his boys playing with their new toys, Dean showing Sammy how to fit the accessories, and knew that Mary would be proud of her family; together and happy.

Quietly, almost under his breath, he began to sing;

_You better watch out_  
You better not cry  
You better not pout  
I'm telling you why  
Santa Claus is coming to town  
Santa Claus is coming to town  
Santa Claus is coming to town

He's making a list,  
Checking it twice;  
Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.  
Santa Claus is coming to town  
Santa Claus is coming to town  
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping  
He knows when you're awake  
He knows if you've been bad or good  
So be good for goodness sake 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was that the boys hear the song and stay up all night because Santa’s going to get them. I cheated a bit, but the intention’s there.


End file.
